Mondays are rubbish. I shouldn't imagine that I need to elaborate too much on this, as my reasoning here is fairly obvious, but suffice it to say that next weekend is but a remote prospect on some far-distant horizon, and last weekend is already like a half-forgotten dream.
As we've already established that Sunday is not my funday, my I don't have to run day, I'm hoping that things look up on Tuesday, or else things are starting to look bleak indeed.
For the record, I don't much care for October either.
Proper winter: fine.
This sort of drizzly, blowy, gloomy half-season? You can keep it.
No I'm not feeling grouchy.
Why do you ask?